After a moment, Gitta could hear the most horrid clomping through the underbrush, and then Elise came, dressed in the same clothes from their meeting yesterday, but with the addition of a pair of sturdier boots.
“These are most uncomfortable,” Elise said abruptly. “They were my father’s, and they’re much too big, though I stuffed the toes with rags as you advised.”
“Better this than tearing your feet to shreds on brambles,” said Gitta.
The younger girl’s eyes were shadowed with dark circles this morning. So this is what happened when such perfect creatures were not allowed to sleep until noon?
Enyo was already bowing before Elise. Gitta sighed and waited for the unicorn to finish her ritual. If only Enyo understood the truth of Elise’s presence, she would not be so deferential. But such was the sad destiny of all her kind—helpless to control their love for maidens of the blood, overcome with adoration even as the maidens turned and slew them.
“Come,” Gitta said. “We’ll go practice in the spot where the hunt is to take place. You won’t be able to learn quickly enough to command Enyo as I do, but I’ll teach you to keep her calm and to get her into your lap as tradition requires.”
Elise said nothing, just smoothed her apron over her skirt, no doubt imagining how Enyo’s blood would soil her clothing. Gitta dismissed the unicorn and led Elise away.
They eventually reached the tree Gitta had chosen. It had a large trunk, and a rough pattern of bark that would make it easy enough for Gitta to scale to the lowest branches and lie in wait for the “festivities,” such as they were, to begin.
“You shall sit here,” she said, pointing at a patch of moss near the root. But Elise was nowhere to be seen. Gitta spun around, filtering through the unicorn’s thoughts until she found the younger girl kneeling near an outcrop of greens.
“Wild asparagus!” Elise cried, holding up a bunch. “Oh, isn’t it lovely!” She caught Gitta’s look and straightened, stuffing the stalks into an apron pocket. “Sorry, I was distracted by the plants. I so rarely get a chance to gather wild herbs.”
“You like ... plants?” Gitta asked.
“Very much. You should see my garden.” Elise returned and sat obediently at the base of the tree, arranging her skirts around herself like a queen at a picnic.
Too bad she hadn’t been sent to the Order, thought Gitta. Many of her Sisters focused on herbalism in their work to make cures when the demand for the unicorn’s magical Remedy outweighed the supply.
“What do I do now?” Elise asked.
“You wait,” said Gitta. “Your natural abilities will draw the unicorn to you. It would help,” she added, “if you tried your best to think attractive thoughts.”
Elise closed her eyes and screwed up her features. Did it hurt this much, Gitta wondered, for the fool to
Judging from Enyo’s indifferent response, out there in the forest, Elise’s thoughts were not particularly inviting.
Gitta nearly groaned. An actual daughter of the blood on her hands, and she was still forced to treat her like any other girl. Gitta knew she could sit in the tree herself and call the unicorn to her, but Elise had the magic as well. She wanted to at least attempt to treat this hunt as something more than mere playacting.
“No,” said Gitta, and Elise’s eyes popped open. “You must ...
“Enyo!” cried Elise.
“No. Within yourself.”
Elise looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
Gitta rubbed at her temples. “Do you ever—” How could she explain? After thirteen years, the magic was a second nature. “With your pug. Do you ever turn to it and wish it would come to you, and it does?”
To Gitta’s surprise, Elise’s eyes began to water. “No,” she said. “Bisou knows his name. He—” She looked at her lap.
A moment later, the unicorn came rushing out of the woods and stopped at Elise’s side.
Gitta started in surprise. Enyo had come so quickly, she’d hardly felt the change in the animal’s intentions.
Elise barely moved as Enyo softly nudged her snout against the girl’s arm until the unicorn could slide her head beneath it and settle down in her lap.
“There, there,” murmured Elise, as tears fell onto the unicorn’s mane.
“My lady,” Gitta said in wonder. “You did it.”
The girl did not look up.
Gitta tasted the unicorn’s thoughts. Pity, deep as a river. What a stupid beast, to pity the instrument of its destruction. Gitta scowled.
Enyo turned in Elise’s lap and bleated at Gitta, then went quiet again, closing her cloudy eyes and relaxing in the girl’s arms.
Gitta’s brow furrowed. And then she felt a tug at the edge of her consciousness, an awareness of something stirring in the woods. It was as if the very trees breathed, their leaves spinning fast in a world gone suddenly still.
“Elise,” she said softly. “Are you sure there are no unicorns in these woods?”
Elise lifted her head. “Of course. Not for decades. Used to be many, though. So many. In fact—”
But the feeling was gone. Gitta searched again, but it was as if she’d caught a note of a song too distant to hear. Perhaps it had merely been the remnants of Elise’s nascent magic that had her confused. Elise’s call to the unicorn had to have been a strong one, to bring Enyo there so fast.
“So,” said Gitta. “That is how you will do it. And then, you must hold tight to her, for the men with their spears will make her angry.”
“Angry?” Elise asked.
Gitta nodded. “Yes. She will wish to protect you. So just continue to be calm, and soothing, no matter what. I shall be hiding in the tree above in case anything happens, and at the right time, I shall shoot her, and then it will be over.”
“You will shoot an arrow at us? But what if you miss?”
“I never miss.”
“What if it passes through Enyo’s body and kills me?” said Elise.
“I never miss,” Gitta repeated, annoyed. “I would prefer not to do it at all, but your cousin insisted—”
“You didn’t present him with options.” Elise rose and dusted off her dress. The unicorn remained by her side. “You could have suggested we end the ceremony with the presentation of the body of a white kid, or a fawn. But instead you just stood there and drove up the price. He would not hesitate to spend my money—”
Elise hadn’t presented any options, either. Gitta narrowed her eyes. “I have haggled with your kind before. The only time they ever back down is when there is money—”
“You do not want to kill the unicorn!” exclaimed Elise. “I can see it writ on your face.”
Gitta turned and walked into the woods.
“Stop!” Elise came clomping through the underbrush behind her. “Sister Maria Brig—”
Gitta began to run.
Who needed the ill-mannered nun anyway? Elise yanked up another weed from her flower bed, then tore off its leaves in a fit of frustration. She’d called Elise a prig. She’d called her illiterate. She’d doubted the de Commarque claim to unicorn hunting; she’d doubted Elise’s own powers. She knew nothing—nothing of Elise, nothing of her family, nothing of anything except how to dress badly and eat with a knife and sharpen a sword and name a bunch of naked, pagan gods.
And Elise had it on good authority that the hunter hadn’t even been sleeping in the house. Her maid had informed her that the scullery quarters had apparently not been good enough for this foreign nun and she’d taken off. Sleeping in the mud, perhaps. Would explain the smell at least.
Why should Elise bother to speak to her at all? Just get through the ceremony, give the ugly git her mark of gold, and send her on her way. Why should she even try to help the nun with her vicious, peacock-killing Enyo? Elise
